


How to Get Away With Murder

by SevereLove51



Category: How to Get Away with Murder, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Slow Burn, htgawm au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-01-26 15:57:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21376717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevereLove51/pseuds/SevereLove51
Summary: Steve Rogers is Chester Phillips University's newest grad student. Wanting to take advantage of his ROTC scholarship, Steve decides to enroll in some social justice classes. However, after enrolling in a difficult law class, Steve ends up being wrapped in secrets he could never imagine.
Relationships: Carol Danvers/Maria Rambeau/James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 5
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

“_Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” a man yelled into his microphone. The crowd of young adults in their football apparel cheered. Students blew whistles, others drunkly sang the school’s athletic chant, and others, intoxicated by the energy of the celebration, screamed for the hell of it. The marching band played triumphantly, keeping the chaotic energy going. _

_“Tonight is the night we celebrate our victorious win against Xavier College!” Someone in the crowd throws a football at the man. He caught it, earning a thunderous applause from the crowd. The grin on the man’s face grew bigger. “Let’s party Chester Phillips!” _

_The crowd didn’t need permission to party. The smoke and the alcohol stench in the air drove the crowd’s energy. Amongst the crowd an effigy of Xavier College school’s mascot, a wolverine, dressed in a Xavier College’s football uniform, was slowly being marched to its fiery death. Elsewhere, a woman in the Chester Phillips’ mascot outfit hyped the crowd up, dancing to the beat of the marching drums. It was a night of celebration for all the students of Chester Phillips University. However across campus, down the hills and in the middle of the woods, for four students, this night is far from a celebration. _  
  
_“Oh my god, oh my god.” _

_“Shut up! Be quiet!”_

_“Do not tell me how I should be feeling right now!” snarled one of the students._

_“Quit it both of you!” snapped another, her eyes glaring at the two. _  
  
_Both men look at the other, the anger dissipating in their eyes. They looked away with nervous glances. Clint’s hands couldn’t stop shaking. After witnessing whatever the fuck that was, he couldn’t stop shaking. The thought of being caught and living in a jail cell for the rest of his life was weighing his mind. _

_“Easy for you to say, Nat,” Clint pushed out. “This is probably a walk in a park for you.”_  
_Natasha glared at him, the glare more unnerving and cold than the previous one. Natasha bit down the words that threaten to leave her lips. She focused her attention on something else, anything other than Clint or what happened at the house. _  
  
_“Guys,” Tony began. Everyone looked at him. “It’s okay, Steve is handling it.”_

_“Steve?” Bruce questioned. _

_Clint laughed. “Seriously? Steve the waitlist?” He shook his head, chuckling at the inane situation of it all. “We are so fucking screwed.”_

_“Hey!” Tony snapped. He cleared his throat to lower his voice. “Listen, you guys don’t know him well, but I do, and he’s smart.”_  
  
_“Hey, guys.” Everyone yelped as Steve appeared behind them. He dropped his backpack and pulled out a slim glass trophy. Blood was splattered on the trophy, reminding the group of what happened earlier. _

_Clint frowned, teeth gritted in anger. “Why the hell do you have that?” His voice was tight. _  
_Steve stared directly at Clint. “We couldn’t leave it there,” Steve told him matter-of-factly. _

_“Yes, we could of!”_

_“No,” Bruce cut in, “Steve is smart.” He stepped closer to Steve, examining the trophy as if it was a rare commodity. “Commonwealth v Deloatche, remember? No murder weapon, no jail time.” _

_“So what, we hide it?” Tony asked. _

_“No, we clean it up,” Natasha said. “We clean it up, and put it back on the shelf.” She looked to Steve. “If we place it back, no one would be suspicious. No one will find our print on it either.”_

_Steve slowly nodded. This information slowly processed in his head and he pressed his lips to a fine line, grimacing at what he’s going to say next. “Okay, after we hid the body, we go back to the house and clean it then put it back on the shelf.”_  
  
_“Get rid of?” Bruce questioned. “You can’t seriously be thinking of getting rid of a body. We’ll get caught.” _

_“Hey, no one caught us committing homicide,” Tony quipped. He wanted to laugh at this situation. _

_Five college students murders someone, more at 7. He could already imagine their mugshots on every television station in America. _  
  
_“You’re insane!” Clint spat. “All of you! We can’t hide a fucking body when there’s a fucking bonfire going on!”_

_Natasha rolled her eyes. “Yell that a bit louder, would you, Clint?” _

_Clint shot her a glare. “Where would we even hid it? The ground is frozen solid! And if we try to move it anywhere else, someone will notice.” _

_“Clint’s got a point,” Tony pointed out. “Anything we do will be suspicious, especially with security running around.” _

_“So we’re fucking screwed!”_

_“Stop it!” Steve yelled. Everyone looked at him with wide eyes. He sighed and pinched his nose. _

_“Listen, we can’t be arguing about this right now. Time is of the essence. We have to be all in agreement about what we’re doing here.”_

_“Tony disagrees, I disagree, Bruce is undecided, so we’re split.”_  
  
_“Let’s flip a coin,” Bruce suggested. _

_“No-“_

_“We need to be all in agreement.” _

_“God,” Tony scoffed, “we’re going to let a damn coin decide our fate?”_  
  
_Bruce searched his pocket for a coin. He pulled out the quarter. “Alright, heads we get rid of the body. Tails, we leave it.” _

_The group goes quiet. Clint turns his back to the group, shoving his shaky hands into his pockets. Everyone else’s attention is on Bruce. Their literally livelihood depended on a coin flip. Five college students, hiding in the woods after committing a murder, and one student holding the murder weapon. _

_Tails: they go to jail._

_Heads? They’re life is going to get more complicated. _

* * *

**~Three Months Earlier~**

Steve Rogers scolded himself for not going on a school tour before deciding to go to Chester Phillips. Holding a map of the school’s campus and wearing a backpack stuffed with notebooks and heavy textbooks, basically screamed “HELLO, I AM A NEW STUDENT”. Steve realized he made another mistake. Bucky told him to go to explore the campus a day before his classes started, and he didn’t listen. 

“It would be easier on you for your first day.” 

Steve hated it when Bucky is right. Steve scanned his surroundings and did his best to find the map’s version of the buildings. Eventually he was able to pinpoint himself between Pym Hall and the Academic Center. 

_'Carter Hall is over here…so, southwest.’_

Steve walked southwest and passed two buildings. He stopped to stare up at the building. He stared down at the map then at the building looming over him. The sign confirmed he was at the right place. Steve put the map in his pocket. His stomach churned as he entered the building and then the classroom. 

Steve didn’t expect to find the classroom this packed. He knew the class was nearly full when he signed up, but this was crazy. He managed to squeeze through some of his fellow classmates and get to the front row. Fortunately for Steve, there was an open seat near the center. Steve plotted himself down on the seat. He flashed a smile to the red haired woman sitting next to him. 

“Hi, I’m Steve.”  
  
“Natalia,” she responded, eyes down at her notebook. She pointed her pen to the whiteboard.

“Seats are assigned, big guy.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, and you’re in my seat,” the man standing in front of him said. 

“S-Sorry.” Steve stood up to go to the whiteboard.  
  
From behind, he heard Natalia say, “Clint, it’s too early to be an asshole.” 

Clint and Natalia. The only two people in class who’s names he knows, did not like him. He congratulated himself for a great start.

Once Steve found his name on the list, he started his way to his seat when someone called out, “Guys, he’s coming!”

In a second, everyone rushed to their seats, everyone clamored down as the professor walked in. A bald African-American man with a black eyepatch entered the classroom, carrying a black briefcase.   
  
“For all of you to be in my class, you all must not have any morals,” the professor began as he made his way to the front of the class. He turned around once he reached the desk and set the briefcase on the desk. He smiled. “Good, because that’s exactly what you need to in order to be a good defense lawyer. I’m Professor Nicholas Fury, but everyone calls me Fury. This is criminal law 101 or what I like to call,” Professor Fury started to write on the whiteboard. He set the marker down and turn around. “How to get away with murder.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks for reading this fanfic. I've actually had this idea in my head for a couple of years now and I'm glad I am finally able to post it now. When it comes to scheduling, I'm hoping to post at least twice a month, possibly on a weekend. Anyways, thanks for reading!


	2. Criminal Law 101

“_I’m Professor Nicholas Fury, but everyone calls me Fury. This is criminal law 101 or what I like to call...how to get away with murder.”_   
  


* * *

  
Professor Fury stood tall. His intimidating presence silenced the class. The tense atmosphere gave Steve goosebumps. Professor Fury didn't say anything for a full minute, his eyes scanning his students as if he was analyzing them right there and then. Steve stared at his professor and for a second, they locked eyes. Steve immediately darted his eyes down to his lap, his heart racing. 

“He’s scarier in person,” muttered the man next to him.   
  
Steve nodded, not looking up. He wondered what he had gotten himself into with this class. “My class is different from all the other law class,” Professor Fury finally spoke. His hands were clasped behind his back and he moved step by step behind his desk. “Unlike my colleagues, you will actually practice law and the way you’ll practice law is by doing so in the courtroom.” He stopped at the center of his desk. He scanned the classroom. He unzipped his briefcase and pulled out a clicker. He pointed it at the projector screen. A mugshot of a young woman with wavy brunette and dyed pink tips appeared on the screen. “Our first case, is the aspirin assassin.” 

  
Immediately, everyone, except Steve, pulled out their laptops and/or notebooks. Steve furrowed his eyebrows. He pulled out his own notebook in response, but compared to his other classmates, his notebook was blank. He glanced over at the students in front of him and saw an article headlined “Intern Poisoned Boss” and two pictures, one of the woman on the screen and one of a man in a red suit with his arm crossed.   
  
“Were we supposed to read an article about this?” Steve whispered to his classmate next to him. The man ignored him. Steve decided to take his own shitty laptop out. He went to his school email and saw an attachment for Professor Fury’s class. _‘Damn it, Rogers.’_ He clicked on the attachment and skimmed the article as fast as he could.   
  
Fury took out a tan folder and flipped through it. “Tell me the facts… Clint Barton.” 

  
Someone in the front stood up. Steve hoped he could multitask eavesdropping and reading.  
“The Commonwealth v. Carina Tate was a case of attempted murder by the defendant Carina Tate. Ms. Tate worked as an assistant to the victim, Taneleer Tivan,” Clint explained. Steve recognized that voice, but couldn’t quite place where.

“Someone tell me what happened to Mr. Tivan, Anthony Stark.” 

  
“Tony Stark,” Tony corrected, a grin tugged at his lips. “Tate allegedly switched his medication with an aspirin that Tivan is allergic to.” 

  
"And what occurred when Mr. Tivan ingested the aspirin, you, Bruce Banner."

  
The student next to Steve stood up, holding onto his notebook. Steve stopped reading and looked up at Bruce, startled by the movement. 

  
"Uh,” he started, he fumbled with straightening his glasses. “Mr. Tivan went into an anaphylactic shock. His throat swell and his brain was deprived of oxygen for about 7 minutes before one if his assistants was able to resuscitate him."

  
"Good. So we established the actus reas, what about the mens rea?" There’s a pause as Fury searches for a name to call on next. “Steve Rogers."

  
Steve blinked. “Mens rea?" He questioned. Everyone, including Fury was staring at him. He closed his laptop and stood up. "Right."

  
“Unprepared?”

  
His cheeks flushed. “No, I know what the mens rea is.” 

  
“Then you should have the answer ready for me.”

  
“Sorry, I just got off the waitlist yesterday and didn’t get the reading until this morning,” Steve answered truthfully. While semi-truthfully since he didn’t find out about the reading until 2 minutes ago. Fury’s cold expression didn’t budge. He was stone faced at Steve’s pathetic excuse. Steve’s eyes went to his laptop then back to Fury to answer the question as best as he could, “Allegedly, Carina Tate’s intent was to kill her boss.”

  
Fury tilted his head just a millimeter, his stone face still there. “Allegedly?” 

  
Steve nodded, unsure if he dug himself a bigger hole for himself. He vaguely remembered the date on the article was from August 28th of this year, too early for it to be settled. “The case hasn’t reached a verdict, it’s still ongoing.”

  
“You’re correct Mr. Rogers.” Relief washed over Steve as Fury started to walk down the stairs.

  
A student in the front row raised her hand. 

  
“Romanoff?” Fury called from his desk. 

  
Natalia stood up. “Since the verdict hasn’t been reached yet, will we be going back to the case?”   
Fury let a small smirk onto his face. “Pack up your things class. We’re going on a small road trip.” 

* * *

  
“Three days ago, I took Tate’s case after she fired her previous lawyer,” Fury explained to his students. All 80 of students were crowded into his living room. He stood in the center, next to him sat the client, Carina Tate. Steve was stuck on the stairs with a few other students. She looked like she was fresh out of high school, too young to be involved in such a heinous crime. 

  
“I didn’t expect for things to go the way it did with Taneleer,” Carina confessed. “I was only supposed to be a temp since the woman before me was on maternal leave.” She smiled faintly. “I…was in his office once when he kissed me. I didn’t find anything wrong since we were both single, but he was still my boss.” The smile disappeared, her youthful features now strained. “On my last day, after my lunch break, the paramedics came. I would never hurt him.”

  
“Something tells me she is lying,” whispered the tall blonde next to him. The tall blonde grinned at Steve who glared in response to the tasteless comment. 

  
Fury spoke, catching all the students’ attention. “The trial starts in two days. Tomorrow, I’m giving you all the chance to present a defense for the defendant. Stark?”

  
“Yes?”

  
“You’ll be going first. Rogers, on the other hand, will be going last.” Steve frowned, _‘of course’._ The smiles on his classmates’ faces didn’t make it better. “Not an enviable position as no two argument can be the same. You have all night to to come up with an argument. Feel free to use Tate’s discovery file, my library, hell, if the internet will help you, use it. You can also ask my associates, the people who I trust with my life, any questions about the case.” 

  
“Phil Coulson,” the man introduced himself. He gestured his hand to the woman near the stairs, who’s arm were crossed. Steve had to look directly down to see her. “My colleague over there is Maria Hill.”

  
“I can introduce myself, Phil,” Maria chided, pushing herself off the stairs and moved closer to Phil. 

  
“Please don’t come to me with stupid questions,” Phil continued. 

  
“But do come to us with answers, we appreciate that more,” Maria addressed the class. She gave Phil a warning glare who brushed it off. 

  
“One more thing,” Fury added, garnering everyone’s attention. “Every year, I have six of my students to come work with me. I use this assignment to decide whether or not you’re capable of joining my team.” Fury walked to one of the book shelves. He held up a slim glass trophy. “The top student gets this. My first recognization trophy in the region.” He smirked at the trophy. “Consider it an immunity. Having this allows you to get out of one of my exams. Useful considering all the hard work I’m going to put you all through. Now go. Find a defense that will clear my client.”

* * *

Later that night, Steve decided to hammer down on his studying. Papers and index cards were spread across his bed, some fell onto his floor. His laptop was on the reading provided by Professor Fury. Steve chewed the butt of his pencil, staring hard at his notebook. So far, he has only came up with ten defenses, half he found online from previous homicide cases. He pulled down his laptop and scrolled through the reading for the 12th time of the night.   
  
_‘She arrived at the office at 10:00 am, met him at around 12:20, went to lunch at 12:30.’_ He frowned._ ‘The crime happened between that time.’_ He scrolled further down and removed the pencil from his mouth. He sighed._ ‘And she knew of the allergy on the first day.’_

  
Steve set his laptop down next to along with his notebook. He rubbed his temple, feeling a pulsating ache starting. Day one of class and Steve was already struggling. He needed to write at least 100 defense claims to make up for being the last to present. He couldn't risk embarrassing himself again in class. Steve didn't care about joining Professor Fury's team, only succeeding in class. If he failed, he wouldn't near the end of it from Bucky. 

  
"If only Bucky was here," Steve whispered. He stared at his phone which laid on his bedside table. He reached for his phone. No new messages. None from Bucky.   
Steve tapped on his past text conversation with Bucky. It's been four days since Bucky has responded to his texts. He knew Bucky has a new internship that keeps him busy. He sent Bucky another message. 

**Steve**: _Met Professor Fury. _  
**Steve**: _Not a nice guy. _

His eyes lingered on the messages. He chewed his inner cheek then turn his phone off. Another sigh and Steve decided he should take a break. There was barely food in his apartment so either pizza or chinese was his best option. He'll go to whichever is the closest. Steve grabbed his jacket and headed out his apartment.   
  
From the apartment next to his, a man walked out. He carried a garbage bag as he closed the door behind him. Steve squinted his eyes. That man looked familiar. The glasses, the messy black hair, purple shirt, he couldn’t quite place it. The man turned around from his door and stopped as he saw Steve. His mouth opened, but no words came out. 

  
Steve tilted his head. "Aren’t you in my class?”

  
“Am I?” the man questioned.

  
_'Ah.'_ Steve nodded. "Yeah, you sit next to me in class, right? What’s your name again?”

  
“Bruce," Bruce answered. "It’s...Rogers?”

  
“Steve, Rogers is my last name.” 

  
“Ah.” Neither said anything as both avoided making eye contact. "Hey, I’m sorry for ignoring you in class, I didn’t want any trouble on the first day of class.”

  
“I understand. I see why everyone was panicking earlier." Bruce nodded along. Awkward silence took over once more. Steve spoke first, "Hey, I'm grabbing some food, either take out or pizza. I was wondering if you wanted to relax for a bit?"

  
Bruce was taken aback by the offer. "I would love to, but." He scratched the back of his neck, dodging Steve's stare. "The assignment Professor Fury gave us, I need all the time I could get."

  
Steve hesitated then laughed it off. "Yeah, of course. Same here." He slowly moved to the stairs, desperate to get out of this awkward situation that he trapped himself into. "See you tomorrow."  
  
He quickly exited out of the building. Steve decided that pizza would be his option to drown the embarrassment of today. 


	3. The Defense

_"Heads, we hide the body."_

* * *

_"Clint,” Natasha called out. She frowned, “Clint!” _  
  
_"Don't say my name!" Clint snapped, "I didn't agree to any of this!"_

  
_"You're standing on the rug,” Natasha told him, gesturing to his foot. Clint jerked his foot away and moved to the couch instead. _

_Bruce assisted Natasha with rolling the body in the rug. In the next room over, Tony entered the kitchen where he saw Steve over at the sink. The water went off and Tony stared at Steve as Steve wiped the glass trophy down with some paper towels. He made a step forward into the kitchen._

_"Got all the blood off?” _

_Steve flinched. He turned his head slightly and the fear on his face disappeared. “Yeah, bleached the whole sink too."_

_"So what now?" Tony asked. Steve shoved the damped paper towels in his pockets. He then turned to face Tony. _

_"We put it back."_

_Tony felt nauseous. “Oh god."_

_Steve looked at Tony, his eyes sympathetic. His eyes went back to the trophy. “We should leave, before anyone gets suspicious." Steve grabbed the trophy with another paper towel and brushed past Tony without a second glance. Tony followed behind him._

_When they entered the living room, Natasha and Bruce finished up rolling the body. Steve shoved the trophy into a plastic bag then into his backpack. _

_“Ready?” Natasha asked. _

_Tony shrugged. “Might as well be.” Tony was sickened at his words. How could he possibly be okay with all of this? How can any of them be okay with this?_

_Tony grabbed what he presumed to be the legs. Steve held up somewhere in the middle, more than likely the torso. Bruce and Natasha held up the other half of the body. _

_“Are you just going to stand there and look pretty?” Tony teased Clint._

_“I’m. Not. Touching. The. Body,” Clint grunted out. _

_“Then can you at least open the door for us?” Clint glared at Tony and scoffed. He started to walk to the door, but Tony stopped him. “And take my car keys, we’ll need the trunk open for the body.” _

_Clint grumbled something and took Tony’s keys from his pocket. Clint went ahead of everyone. Tony lead the group out first. As he turned out of the living room’s doorway, he accidentally bumped the body into the wall. _

  
_"Careful!" Natasha hissed._

  
_“Sorry!” harshly whispered Tony. _

_When the group reached the door, Clint held it open, facing his head away from the group. “Which one is your car?”_

_“Red one, remember?”_

_"Hey!" a voice yelled. Everyone froze. A portly security guard stood on the lawn of the house. The man looked annoyed. He pointed to the red vehicle that was partly on the sidewalk. “Is this your vehicle?"_  
  
_Tony gestured his head to Steve to carry the weight. He walked up to the guard, wanting to avoid him from examining the rug. “Yes, it's mine." _

_The annoyed looked turned to curiosity, the man’s eyebrow raised then both lifted and slowly grinned. “Are you Tony Stark?”_  
  
_“Yes, I am,” Tony said with caution. _

_“Holy shit, I heard you were going to this school, but-“ the security guard reached for his back pocket. Tony’s heart sunk. The security guard pulled out a ticket notepad and a pen. “Can I get_ _an autograph?”_

_Tony’s mouth dropped. “Of course.” Tony approached the guard. The guard handed Tony that notepad and pen. Tony stared at the notepad, wondering if this is the best course of action. Then, it hit him. “What’s your name? I like doing personalized autographs.” _

  
_“Happy Hogan,” the guard replied, cheerfully. Tony signed ‘to Happy Hogan, my biggest fan, - Tony Stark’. He handed the notepad and pen back. The guard stared at the notepad, grinning. “Thanks.” A crowd of shirtless men ran past them, screaming, tossing streamers and popping snapper poppers. _

_“Shit, it’s crazy out here. Be careful out there!” Happy called out as he ran off to chase down the crazy crowd of students. _

_“Why the hell did you do that?” Natasha asked._

  
_“So I can buy him off later,” Tony replied, staring off into the direction Happy ran to_. 

* * *

** ⁃ September 5th - **

The next day, Steve arrived early to class. Only a couple of students, somewhere around 15-20 students, were in the classroom. They all probably had the same idea as Steve to arrive early so they could prepare for their presentation. Among the early students was Bruce. 

When Steve reached his seat, Bruce didn’t pay him no mind. Steve figured it wasn’t the best time to bother his next door neighbor and decided to review his notes as well. He drew a star on some of his best defenses and mentally prepared himself what to say for each defense. 

For a moment, Steve’s mind disconnected from reality and realized the absurdity of this assignment. He never imagined himself contriving ideas to get a woman out of a murder charge in a college classroom. To add more to the absurdity, this woman’s life literally depends on them. Steve doesn’t understand how everyone else is only viewing it as a homework assignment and not the fact a woman’s livelihood is hanging in the balance.

As time edged closer to the start of class, more students entered the classroom. The noise level increased, but not too loud that Steve couldn’t hear his own thoughts. He tilted his head up to see the red haired woman and her friend taking their seats.

“Okay class,” Professor Fury’s voice cut through the room and everyone immediately went silent and shuffled as fast as possible to their seats. Following behind Professor Fury was his two assistants, Phil Coulson and Maria Hill. 

Fury set his briefcase on the desk. He turned around and faced the class, saying nothing as he scanned the class. 

“Tony Stark,” he began. “I believe you are first.”

Tony stood up and Steve readied his pencil. Tony smirked. “My defense is…we offered the jury another suspect. Tivan’s youngest brother, Carlo. As I was doing research on Tivan and his family, I noticed that out of all his brother, Carlo didn’t receive any inheritance or any stakes in their father’s company. Instead, Carlo is forced to work under his old brother, our unfortunate victim. And what better way to get back at the brother who got everything than kill him and pin it on his mistress?” 

Tony still had that smirk on his face. Steve noticed that Tony likes to do a lot of hand gestures whenever he spoke. 

Fury looked at his assistants. They whispered to each other then Fury looked back at Tony. “You can take a seat, Mr. Stark. Congratulations, you’ve moved onto the next round. Alright, who’s next?”

Everyone’s hand shot up.   
  
The rest of the presentations went in a blur for Steve, only perking up whenever a student’s defense matches his so he could cross it out. As more students went, the more Steve’s defense list grew smaller and smaller. There were some highlights Steve’s paid attention to.  
Thor, who Steve remembered at the stairs of Fury’s house, came up with the defense that the doctor did the blood work too late for him to detect any aspirin in Mr. Tivan’s blood, therefore exonerating Ms. Tate from the crime. Natalia’s defense was that Mr. Tivan mistook the aspirin for his medication and that Mr. Tivan’s glasses weren’t on him when he took the aspirin. Clint’s, finally learning his name, defense was that Gina did put the pill on his desk, but she never intended to kill him, only scare him. Bruce went and instead of discussing a defense for their client, but how they could spin it to benefit the victim. He mentioned how he analyzed the background of jurors and most come from a low-income class similar to Ms. Tate. He theorized if they emphasize Ms. Tate’s background that it would swing juror’s opinion on her. When Bruce sat down, Steve immediately believed that Bruce definitely won that assignment challenge.   
  
After Bruce went, a couple more students had gone. Nearly 70% of the class sat on either the stairs or the back walkway of the class, the unfortunate ones. Steve prepared himself to be ready to sit on the side and be ruled out of the competition.

“Steve Rogers, you’re the only one left.”   
  
_'Of course.’ _

Steve stood up. He glanced down at his notebook, searching through the list of crossed out sentences for one not crossed out.   
  
“I say…” he started, still searching for an unused defense. A thought crossed his mind. “We… argue self defense.” He heard light laughter, but continued anyways. “Mr. Tivan is from a place of power and for Ms. Tate to cut it off prematurely it could have done irreparable damage to her career. It was her only way out of an abusive relationship.” Steve stopped and waited for a response from Fury. “I’ll go stand over there.”

“No. Sit,” Fury ordered. Steve hesitated then slowly sat down. 

“Good job,” Bruce whispered to Steve.   
  
“Congratulations to those who managed to keep your seat, you’ve all moved onto the next round,” Fury said. “Unfortunately, none of you beat my approach.”

Fury gets up and start writing on the whiteboard.   
  
"Step 1: Discredit the witnesses

Step 2: Introduce a new suspect

Step 3: We bury the evidence.” He set the marker down, facing the class. “We throw so much information at the jury that they leave the courtroom with one overwhelming feeling…doubt. Thats how you get away with murder.” 

Fury whispered to Phil and Maria while the class watched in quiet anticipation. Fury then addressed the class, “I need all of you to be at the courthouse by 9 am. For those who managed to move on to the next level, if you have any ideas that will benefit our defense, feel free to tell either one of us. Class dismissed.” 

“Looks like we survived,” Bruce said to Steve. “Good defense, by the way.”

“Thanks, yours is very creative compared to everyone else.” 

“Good job waitlist,” Steve heard someone says to his right. It was Tony. “You managed to impress everyone in class today.”

Steve‘s face heated up. “Thanks.”   
  
Tony just grinned then walked out of the classroom. Steve stared at Tony’s direction for a minute. He sighed and decided he should head to the library to study up on torts.


	4. Only One Can Win

_ “Step 1: Discredit the witnesses. _

_ Step 2: Introduce a new suspect. _

_ Step 3: We bury the evidence....”  _

* * *

Steve arrived to the hearing a minute before it started. He would have arrived earlier to the courtroom if he hadn’t waste 20 minutes searching for a parking space for his motorcycle. Steve scurried down the aisle to find a seat. He spotted a space next to Tony and took the seat, hoping no one noticed his tardiness.

“You missed the check in time, waitlist,” Tony leaned over and whispered. 

Steve sighed. 

Past the heads of his classmates, Steve saw Fury and his assistants preparing. He contemplated telling Fury he had arrived, but considering Fury’s already poor reception of him, he decided against it. On the other side of the courtroom, Steve also saw the prosecutor.

Benjamin Donovan, Steve recalled seeing the prosecutor’s name on one of the class papers that was handed yesterday. Similar to Fury, Donovan was also preparing, but unlike Fury, he has only one assistant with him. Steve noticed two people sitting next to Donovan, one in a wheelchair and an older man next to him. Steve figured it was Mr. Tivan and the older man next to him was his one of his brothers. Mr. Tivan was quadriplegic. Attached to his wheelchair was an oxygen tank and the man wore sunglasses. Steve felt a twinge of sympathy for the man

A minute later and the judge entered the courtroom. Everyone stood up as the judged introduced herself then the case. Donovan started his opening statement. Each sentenced hammered on Mr. Tivan’s successful accomplishments with his company and his philanthropy and because of Ms. Tate’s “attack on his life”, he won’t be able to help the community anymore since he can barely function on his own. Fury’s opening statement shifted the blame on Ms. Tate to Mr. Tivan and empathized their unethical relationship and that Ms. Tate is a sweet young girl who was taken advantage by a rich older man because he can do so without consequences. Steve studied the faces of their jury as each lawyer said their statements. Both statements proved effective to the jury, but Donovan's tactic to draw out sympathy for Mr. Tivan swayed the jury more. From that moment, Steve knew that this trial was going to be difficult for Fury to win.

Donovan introduced his first witness, Mr. Tivan’s secretary, Matani Krovac. Mrs. Krovac was dressed in a pale pink pantsuit. Her eyes were puffy and her cheeks were flushed. When she got onto the stand, Steve noticed the crumpled tissue in her hand. _‘Another sympathy tactic, huh?’ _

“So, Mrs. Krovac, how long have you been Mr. Tivan’s secretary?” Donovan asked. 

“About 12 years or so, sir.”

“And when did the company start accepting interns?”

“About 7 years ago. Each year we have 2 to 3 new interns join us.”

“And how many of those interns personally work for Mr. Tivan?”

“In those 7 years? I would say about 5.”

“May I ask, what were the gender of the interns who worked for Mr. Tivan.”

“Female, sir.”

“Objection! Relevance?” Fury called out. 

“I’m getting there,” Donovan assured. 

Judge nodded. “Overruled. Continue on Mr. Donovan, but please get to the point.”

“Of course.” Donovan turned his attention back to Mrs. Krovac. “How intimate would you say Mr. Tivan gets with his female interns?” 

Mrs. Krovac looked at him shock. Her mouth opened and closed like a washed out fish. She then cleared her throat and continued on. “Only with 4 of the interns. Their…relationship only lasted during the internship.”

“Would you say any of them had any ill feelings towards Mr. Tivan?”

Mrs. Krovac shook her head, disappointment written on her face. “I don’t believe so. They all knew it wouldn’t last long. The only intern who was visibly upset was Carina.”

“Did Ms. Tate say anything to you about her and Mr. Tivan’s relationship?”

“Not directly,” Mrs. Krovac answered, “I did, however, heard them arguing, a week before her internship was supposed to end.” 

“Do you remember what the argument was about?”

“It was about their relationship. Carina was upset about him ending it and called him…” the older woman glanced over to Carina then to Mr. Tivan then back to Donovan. “‘A sick son of a bitch’ and a ‘pervert’ and accused him of trying to ruin her life.” 

Donovan feigned surprise. “And you said this happened a week before her internship ended, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Is the week when her internship supposed to end also the same week when Mr. Tivan was poisoned?” 

“Yes, sir.” That earned a murmur from the audience, including some of Fury’s students. 

Donovan grinned. “That will be all.” He returned to his table and whispered to his assistant.

Fury took Donovan’s place. He sauntered to the witness stand, hands clasped behind his back. He stopped once he stood in front of the witness stand, but didn’t look at Mrs. Krovac directly. “Mrs. Krovac, did Ms. Tate work with you as well as Mr. Tivan?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Can you tell me how many times in a day or a week, you interacted with Ms. Tate?” 

“In a day?” She laughed nervously, “God, I can’t really count it…maybe 3 to 5 times a day, usually for her to get coffee or run some errands for me.”

Fury looked at her. “And while she was running errands, have she ever messed up?” 

“Well…”

Fury walked back to his table. Maria handed him a piece of paper. Fury grabbed it then walked back to the witness stand. “Is it true that you would frequently insult her? Calling her a failure, that she ‘dresses like a slut’ and she should ‘go back to the trailer park’ she came from?”

Mrs. Krovac’s eyes widen. “I-I…I didn’t really-“ 

The doors open, directing everyone’s attention from the witness to whoever walked in. It was Natalia. Steve thought Natalia was sitting with Clint. He turned back to see that Clint is sitting in front of him, but woman next to him wasn’t Natalia. Natalia went straight to Clint. She whispered into his ear and showed him the tan folder. Clint nodded, whispered something back then Natalia went to Fury’s table. 

“Those sons of bitches did it, huh?” Tony muttered in disbelief. Steve looked at him confused.

Fury excused himself and he met Natalia at the table. She was done whispering something to Maria and Phil when Fury approached them. Maria handed Fury the tan folder. His eyebrows rose as he skimmed over the texts. Fury whispered something to Natalia then she moved to go sit next to Clint. 

“Mr. Fury, are you done?” the judge asked, impatiently. 

“Yes, I apologize,” Fury responded. He set the folder back on the table then turn to the woman on the witness stand. “Mrs. Krovac, you told the police that you saw a pill on my client’s desk on the day of accident, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Was the pill you saw brown? Like prosecutor Donovan’s tie?”

“Yes.”

Murmurs broke out in the audience. Donovan’s jaw tighten as he look down at his tie. 

“Unfortunately, Mrs. Krovac, prosecutor Donovan’s tie is blue,” Fury told her. “Are you, by any chance, colorblind?”

“Yes, but I know what I saw-“

“So are you able to tell us whether the pill you saw on my client’s desk was blue, like her anxiety medicine she used to endure the constant insults she has to suffer with working with you or brown, like the aspirin used to poison Mr. Tivan?” 

“Carina was acting nervous!” Mrs. Krovac exclaimed. 

“Was she shaking? Eyes shifty?” Fury asked.

“Yes!”

“Symptoms of anxiety?” Fury clarified. He scoffed as the older woman’s face crumpled. “Mrs. Krovac, it’s a simple question. Is it possible that the pill you saw on Ms. Tate’s desk were her anxiety medication?”

Mrs. Krovac sighed, face heavy with defeat. “I guess so. She did calm down a half hour later.” 

Fury grinned. “That will be all, your honor.”And he returned to his seat. 

Tony threw up his hands. “Un-fucking-believable!” He exclaimed. He leaned forward in between Clint and Natalia and whispered, “You know only one can win, right?”

Clint and Natalia looked at each other and smiled. “We know.”

The case went on recess, postponed until tomorrow to give the prosecution time to recuperate. Ms. Tate was the first to leave as the students stayed behind to wait for Fury’s and his assistants to finish cleaning up their files. When they were done, everyone followed them out of the courtroom and down the stairs. Clint and Natalia were in the front with Fury, explaining to him how they found the information on Mrs. Krovac. 

“Last night, Nat and I went through her Facebook page and we noticed in a couple of photos she wore eyeglasses,” Clint started. 

“That had us wondering about her eyesight so we called every optometrists covered under her insurance, found hers and I pretended to be claims provider to the receptionist,” Natalia continued. 

“And the receptionist admitted that Mrs. Krovac has chromatopsia, which causes color blindness,” Clint finished. 

Fury stopped walking. “Impressive you two. You discredited the witness,” Fury said. He turned to the rest of the group. “Remember, for those who are still in the competition and have any ideas that will be helpful to the case, follow Mr. Barton’s and Ms. Romanoff’s actions.” Fury then turned back to Clint and Natalia. “But remember you two, only one can win the trophy.”  


* * *

Tony didn’t come home until 9 pm. He had shut himself inside the school’s engineering workshop, working on a somewhat personal project. The school allowed him, despite not being an engineering student, access to the engineering workshop as perks of being a Stark. He worked on creating a new model of the Chester Phillip’s, rather old, DNA Sequencer that could better read DNA from highly degraded samples. Today, he only managed to build part of the prototype. 

He tossed his book bag on the floor then collapsed onto the couch. He closed his eyes and his mind drifted to the stunt Clint and Natasha pulled earlier. He replayed the scene over and over in his head, jealousy flaring up. It was a brilliant plan, Tony can give them that, but he too can find evidence to help the case. For fuck sake, he is Anthony Edward Stark, the youngest person to attend and graduate from MIT and future heir to Stark Industries. He could use his family name to his advantage to find any evidence for Fury’s case and most importantly, earn himself a spot of his team. Unfortunately, it was too late for Tony to make any phone calls and to make matters worse, he had to be at the courthouse by 9 am. It was too much a risk to wait after tomorrow’s hearing because what if someone else steals his spotlight? Then an idea popped into his head. ime. 

“Rhodey!” Tony called out. “Rhodey!” After a few seconds of no answer, Tony rolled his eyes and left the comfy couch to get Rhodey’s attention. He remembered seeing Rhodey’s key on the rack when he first entered. Tony stood in front of Rhodey’s bedroom door. “I swear to god if you’re having sex right now…”

Tony opened the door to see Rhodey in bed with only the desk lamp on and his laptop on his lap. 

“What do you want? I’m watching the Office,” Rhodey said, looking at the screen.

Tony gasped and placed his hand on his chest. “Without me?” He plumped himself down on the bed. 

“I always watch shows without you,” Rhodey responded. He glanced over at Tony’s shoes and cringed. “Take your damn shoes off while you’re on my bed.”

Tony kicked off his shoes. “Wow, I’m hurt, Rhodey, I am hurt that you watch shows without me. I thought we were comrades.”

Rhodey rolled his eyes. “Tony, what do you want?”

Tony shrugged, resting his head on Rhodey’s shoulder as he scooted closer to Rhodey. “Just a small favor.”

“What favor?”

“Remember when you hacked into Professor Walsh’s gradebook and changed my grade from a D to a solid C-?”

This time Rhodey let out an exasperated sigh. He exited out of the show. “Who do you want me to hack?”

Tony grinned. He gave Rhodey some names on the character witness list and asked for anything for the past 4 months on those witnesses. Rhodey went through social media accounts, hidden accounts that some of the witnesses had, search histories and even emails. Tony had Rhodey stop at one email. Tony skimmed the email and noted the particular name the email was written by. He then had Rhodey look at other email written by the same person. 

“There we go,” Tony muttered as he read the other emails as well. Tony took the laptop from Rhodey and hit the print button. “Thanks, Rhodes.”

He handed the laptop back to Rhodey,jumped out of the bed and headed to the living room to pick up his copies. Rhodey shook his head once Tony left. He reopened the Netflix tab and continued the episode of the Office he was on before he was rudely interrupted by Tony. 

‘_At least he remembered to close the door this time.’ _

* * *

The next day, Tony was ecstatic. He chugged down his fifth cup of coffee as he entered the courthouse. There were a few students standing outside of the courtroom. Further down from the assigned courtroom was Fury and his assistants. Tony tossed the cup into the garbage can and went straight to Fury. 

He handed the papers to Fury. “I have a gift for you, Professor Fury.”

Fury took the papers. “Brown nosing already, Mr. Stark?” Fury questioned. Tony heard Phil laugh. 

“You know I can afford to not do that,” Tony told him. “Besides, don’t you want to win this case?” 

Fury gave him an impressed look then read the papers. “I have a feeling this wasn’t obtained legally.” Tony shrugged. Fury looked back down at the papers then handed it to Maria Hill. “Guess we have to get creative.” 

Time passed and they were allowed inside the courtroom. Tony took his seat the same place as before. More time passed and more students came into the courtroom. Eventually, Clint and Natasha enter the courtroom and sit in the second row. Tony is excited to see how Fury will use the evidence Tony gave him and the look on the two’s face. Steve came in too and he sat next to Tony. 

The case started. The judge greeted the jury and the rest of the courtroom. The prosecutor called in a witness: Carlo Tivan. Carlo Tivan was a short bald man. His features the exact opposite of his brothers: more roundish features, and a smaller, bulbous nose. The prosecutor asked him questions and Carlo answered with short responses. After the prosecutor finished asking his questions, it was Fury’s turn. Tony straighten his back, he couldn’t hold his grin.

Fury approached the witness stand. “Mr…Tivan. How long have you been working for your brother?”

“15 years,” Carlo Tivan answered, “and I don’t work for him, I work  with my brother.” 

“Your father had ownerships of some companies, correct?”

The man nodded. “Yes, two to be exact, my other brother runs Sakar Industries.” 

“And when your father died, he passed ownership of those companies to his sons, correct?”

“Yes.”

“But your older brother was appointed to CEO of Sakaar and your youngest brother was appointed CEO of Collector Co. You didn’t receive anything, except be second in command to your younger brother?”

“Objection!” Donovan cried out. “What is the relevancy?”

The judge narrowed her eyes at Fury. “Mr. Fury.”

“I’ll move on,” Fury assured the judge. “Mr. Tivan, how confident are you with the way your brother runs the company?”

“As confident as a man can be in their younger brother’s ability to run a company,” Carlo answered. 

“Were you aware of your brother’s... affairs?”

Carlo sighed. “Unfortunately, yes.” 

“Is it true you had a meeting with your brother on the morning of the incident?” 

“Yes, we were prepping in case we had a sexual harassment suit on our hands.”

As Carlo gave his response, Fury went to his desk and grabbed the paper. Tony leaned in a bit, interested to see how Fury was going to use his evidence for the case.

Fury handed the judge the paper then to Mr. Tivan. “Mr. Tivan, can you read this email you sent to your brother?”

“Taneleer, consider this my official request for you to step down as CEO. I've previously warned you about having sexual relations with our interns-"

Donovan stood up. “Your honor, that email isn't part of the discovery file.”

"Is that true, Mr. Fury?" The judge asked. 

Fury feigned shock. “I thought it was a part of the discovery file, but my associate is more familiar with this, Hill?” He took the paper from Carlo and handed it to Maria. 

Maria took the paper and skimmed through the text. “The email was in the files given to our client’s previous attorney, your Honor. I assumed it was part of the discovery file.”

“It wasn’t, which means it was obtained illegally,” Donovan said. 

“Enough,” the judge said, sternly. She glanced over to Carlo. “Mr. Tivan, is it true? Did you write this?”

Carlo slowly nodded. "Yes.” 

“Then I have to side with the defense. The email is admissible.” 

“Your honor-“ 

“Enough, I made my decision.”

Tony couldn’t contain his glee. He could tell Fury was grinning, but was doing his best to cover it. This definitely earned himself a spot on Fury’s team. 

“Mr. Tivan, as stated in the email, you were angry at your brother for engaging in a sexual relationship with the company’s interns,” Fury continued with the interrogation. 

“Yes, I was frustrated. The one thing the company doesn’t need right now is a sexual harassment suit.”

“Would you say frustrated enough that you would switch Mr. Tivan’s medication with an aspirin in order to gain sole ownership of the company?”

“Objection!” Donovan shouted. 

“Withdrawn.” Fury gave Carlo one last look and went back to his desk. 

The session continued for another half an hour. There was a call for another witness called by the prosecutor, but Tony zoned out for the rest of it, too caught up on congratulating himself. Once the session was over, the students were dismissed. A few stayed behind to talk with one another, presumably either about the case or to talk to Fury. 

Tony slung his bag over his shoulder and started to make his way out of the room. Outside of the courtroom, Tony saw Steve and Bruce in front of him. Clint and Natasha was near the bench next to the courtroom. 

Bruce stopped talking to Steve when he saw Tony leave the courtroom. “Hey, Tony, is it?” Tony stopped and raised an eyebrow. 

“Yes?”

Clint and Natasha also stopped their conservation and turned their attention to Bruce and Tony.

“You were responsible for that email, right?” Bruce wanted to clarify. Tony nodded. 

“ You were responsible for that?” Steve questioned. “How-“ 

“Where did you get that, Stark?” Clint chimed in. “Was it from your daddy?” There was a mocking smirk on his face and Natasha looked at Tony amused. 

Tony feigned annoyance, but was secretly glad that it irked Clint. “No, Clint. Surprisingly they teach you a lot at MIT.” Clint scoffed and Tony felt too proud of what he did. 

“Well,” Natasha started, breaking the tension between Clint and Tony. “At least we know who’s the competition here.”

Tony slowly nodded with caution, taking his eyes off of Clint. “Yeah, good to know.” He then shrugged. “See you guys tomorrow.” 

He turned his back from the others and walked right out of the courthouse. His list of people to watch out for has just updated.


	5. It's Me, Steve

The first thing Steve did when he reached his apartment was to throw himself onto his bed. He embraced the soft warm comfort of his bed, which invited him to sleep for awhile. Steve would of taken that invitation if it wasn’t for the work his legal writing professor gave him. Steve believed he should have majored in social work instead of majoring in political science with a concentration in public law.  _ ‘Hell’  _ he thought,  _‘I could have listened to Bucky and did art instead._’ Speaking of Bucky...

Steve reached down to his bag and pulled out his phone. There were no new text messages. The only notifications on his phone were from the news app and mail app. There was a gnawing feeling in Steve’s stomach. It’s been a week, actually more than a week, about 8 days since Bucky last answered. He wondered if he should worry or if he was being paranoid. He decided to call.

…

…

…

…

No answer. Right to Bucky’s voicemail. 

Steve frowned. It was a reasonable time outside, almost close to 10. Unless, Bucky’s new internship has changed him, Bucky definitely wouldn’t be asleep, he barely even sleeps. Bucky usually answers after the second ring, especially if it’s Steve calling. Steve flipped over to his back. His thumb hovered over the Google app. 

_ ‘Maybe I should pay him a visit before jumping to conclusions.’  _

He went back to Bucky’s messages. Somewhere among the sea of texts, Bucky sent him his address. Once Steve got his address, he felt he should pay him a visit. 

_ ‘Sorry Professor Pratt, have to make sure Buck is okay.’_

* * *

He followed the maps to Bucky's apartment complex. The building was about 4 stories high and was surprisingly wide for a apartment building. It was a square building among the varying sizes of family houses that surrounded the apartment complex. Steve put his phone on sleep and shoved it in his pocket. He gave it a good stare. He knew Bucky wanted to moved out of the military provided apartments. Steve remembered Bucky wanting to have neighbors that didn't share the same military background as him. Bucky wanted "more interesting neighbors." 

The pit in Steve's stomach grew. In the back of his mind, his conscious was telling him something's wrong. However, he fought against that thought. He needed to believe that Bucky is okay because Bucky is okay and he's probably stressed out with his new internship and that's why he hasn't responded yet. Steve sighed. He entered the building. 

He was lucky to catch a couple leaving the building so he could go inside. It only took a minute for the elevator to take him to Bucky’s floor and another minute to find his door number. 

The number 318 was in gold engraving on the wooden door. Steve scanned the door for any signs of a break in. Fortunately, there was no indents or broken off pieces. The unsettling feeling in his stomach abated. His fist hovered over the door. He didn’t know why he was hesitating. Part of him believed that Bucky is okay, but was clouded by the darker thought. 

He knocked. 

"Bucky?" Steve called out. “It's me, Steve. You there?"

Steve swallowed as he heard nothing. The unsettling feeling returned. He knocked again. “Bucky?" His voice wavered as he said Bucky’s name. He bit his lips. Steve decided he should call Bucky, but it ended up a dead end. 

“You would tell me if there was something wrong, right Buck?” He said to the door. Steve sighed. He parted from the door and headed to the elevator. 

_ 'I'll try again tomorrow. If he doesn't answer, I'm going to the police' _

* * *

“How long ago did you receive the footage from the connivence store, detective Scarfe?” Donovan asked. 

Detective Scarfe looked to be around his late 30s, early 40s. His black hair was slicked back and there were wrinkles on his forehead. To Steve, the detective looked like a douchebag. “About two days ago,” Scarfe answered. “The store owner recognized the defendant from the news and he looked through his old surveillance tapes and handed this video in."

Donovan smiled. “Footage that I will be playing now."

"Your honor, this footage wasn't part of the discovery file,” Fury declared. 

The judge looked at Donovan. “Police found new evidence to the case that's incriminating to the defendant."

"Overruled,” the judge answered.

Donovan nodded his head and pointed the remote at the recently brought in tv. The tv turned on and there’s gray static on the tv until Donovan pressed the button again. The gray static changed to a connivence store. The surveillance camera is at a high angle and it watches as a woman approached the counter. The woman is shown placing down a few items. Surprisingly, the video quality is good as Steve is able to make out the items that were placed down: a bottle of water, some napkins and a small box of…aspirin. The woman, who’s face was covered by her hoodie, lifted her head to talk to the employee. Mutters erupted in the courtroom. 

"Notice the date of the surveillance video," Donovan pointed out. On the right hand corner yellow texts showed the date, but Steve noticed that something wasn’t right. "The night before the murder attempt, the defendant is shown buying…what is on the label detective Scarfe?"

The detective squinted at the tv. “Soloxacore,” he read. “It’s a brand of aspirin."

Fury stood up. “Can we call for a recess?"

* * *

Thirty minutes. Professor Fury was behind closed door for at least thirty minutes now. He’s closed in there with his two associates and the client he swore to get her conviction removed, but after what the surveillance video revealed, professor Fury must have to break that promise. From the muffled yelling that could be heard from the other side of the door, Steve knew that they were in deep trouble.

For some reason, the surveillance video was still stuck in his head. Something irked him about the video, particularly the date. It looked…wrong.

"Well, we're fucked,” Tony stated from behind Steve. Tony decided to stand next to Steve. “Our client definitely did it."

"Well, the jury hasn't decided yet,” Bruce reminded him. 

"True, but after that video? She's screwed." Tony turned to Steve as if he was looking for someone to agree with him. "Wonderful way to end our first case, huh?"

Bruce pointed to the closed door. “Professor Fury seems to be planning something. He might turn this case around."

Steve frowned as a thought popped into his head. He went over to the bench and pulled out his laptop.

Tony raised his eyebrow at Bruce, who shrugged in response. 

“You got something there, waitlist?" Tony asked, deciding to approach Steve. 

Steve reread the file he pulled up on his laptop. He slowly nodded as Tony’s words processed in his head. “Just something I remembered from ROTC,” he muttered. He tore his eyes away from the laptop to the closed wooden door. “I need to talk to Professor Fury."

“Good luck with that, I don’t think- and there he goes,” Tony commented as Steve is already walking to the closed door. Tony turned to Bruce with a grin. “Fury is going to chew him a new one.”

Steve approached the door, ready to knock when the door slammed opened. Steve jumped back and snapped his hand away. Hill was the first to came out. She stared at Steve with confusion. Coulson appeared behind her and the two walked back to the courtroom. Steve peered into the room. Only Fury and Carina Tate was still in the room, but neither looked at each other. Carina was wiping her cheeks and fumbled to push the tissues into her purse. Fury, on the other hand, had a scowl on his face and is looking through his evidence file. 

“Professor Fury,” Steve spoke up. 

Fury looked at him, a bit annoyed. “What do you want Mr. Rogers?"

Steve stepped into the room, letting the door closed behind him. “There's something I noticed about the surveillance tapes, the font is different."

"The font?" Fury questioned. At this point, Carina took that as a sign to leave the room. Steve could only look at the woman with sympathy. Carina struggled to choke down a sob and continued to rub her eyes. Steve hopes he can prevent her from losing. Fury watched as Carina left before, slowly clarifying what Steve said, “Are you saying that the surveillance tape was doctored because of the font?"

"I know its a far fetch idea, but I remember in ROTC training that when we talked about intelligence and surveillance, they showed us the difference between the a doctored video and the original video." Steve sat next to Fury. He opened his laptop and showed him some pictures. "One of those differences was the font, sometimes it may be too big or too small or it looks like it was pasted on." He enlarged the photo. “See?"

Fury took in the information. Steve could see Fury was plotting how to use this knowledge to their advantage by the way he rubbed his chin. 

“It's not an absurd idea that police departments are corrupted," Fury muttered after a moment of silence. “We're going to make a lot of people angry today. Email me that photo, will you Mr. Rogers?"

Steve smiled. “Yes, sir."

* * *

Steve returned to his seat. Tony scooted over and looked at him curiously. 

“I’m guessing he didn’t chew you out a new one?” Tony quipped.

“Depends how this case goes.”

“Glad you’re finally embracing the competition.”

Steve chewed his inner cheek. 

The judge entered the courtroom. She sat herself down and looked at Fury. “Is the defense ready for a closing statement?” the Judge asked. 

“Not yet, your honor,” Fury replied, much to Donovan’s dismay. “We‘ll like to call detective Scarfe back on to the stand.” 

The audience murmured in confusion. Detective Scarfe was called into the courtroom by one of the security guard. The detective shot Donovan a confused glance, who gestured his head to Fury. Once Scarfe got onto the witness stand, Fury started his interrogation. 

“Detective Scarfe, where were you two nights ago?” Fury asked. He’s positioned next to the witness’ stand, his back turned to the jury bench and arm resting on the witness’ stand. 

The detective furrowed his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“Two nights ago, when the video was allegedly acquired,” Fury reaffirmed. 

Donovan stood up. “Objection, call for speculation.” 

“Sustained.” 

“Were you in the police station when the video was acquired?“ Fury continued. 

Detective Scarfe looked taken a back. He sighed and shook his head in resignation. “No, I was watching a Mets game with my son.” 

“And approximately what time did the game start and ended?” Fury asked. 

“Started about 6 ish and ended around 10 ish.”

“And what time did your precinct receive the surveillance video?” 

“8:00 pm.” 

“Was the video logged in at 8:00 pm?”

“No, it was logged in at 2 am.”

“Why the long gap?”

“It takes a while for the computers to log everything in properly. We don’t have the best computers.”

Fury leaned in a bit. “Don’t you believe its odd that the gap between when the video was acquired and when it was officially logged into the system is a 6 hour gap?”

“I mean we do work slower at night. Not many officers take the night shift.” 

“Detective Scarfe, how long have you’ve been working for the District of Columbia?” 

“I would say about…10 years.” 

“And in your 10 years of working with the District of Columbia, have you ever known for them to alter surveillance videos to help get a conviction?”

“Objection!” Donovan called out. 

Ignoring Donovan’s out burst, Fury pushed on. “Specifically altering the date of when my client was in the connivence store, one that she goes to frequently?” 

“Your honor!” Donovan snapped, this time standing up. 

“Restate your question, Mr. Fury,” she ordered. 

“Detective Scarfe,” Fury began, a pause between the words so he could formulate his thoughts. “Are you personally aware of  any instances of doctored surveillance footage in your department?” 

Scarfe’s face scowled in anger. From the way his mouth opened and closed, Steve could see he was struggling to think of a response that won’t get him ridiculed by his fellow policemen. 

“Remember, you’re under oath,” Fury reminded him with a grin. 

Through gritted teeth, Scarfe pushed out one word. “Yes.”

Steve’s eyes widen. He was right. Carina won’t be sent to jail. 

“That is all.” Fury turned back to head to his seat. His grin was still there and he reveled in the shock looks and surprised gasps from the audience and the jury. In the back of his head, he just won the case. 

As he reached his chair, Fury nodded at Steve. Steve nodded back.

* * *

A hour later, when the jury returned with their verdict, Carina became a free woman. The students were standing outside on the courtroom's stairs. They watched as Fury spoke to the reporters. Steve overheard some of his classmates mentioned how exciting the case was and that a detective betrayed his own precinct. 

Eventually, Fury approached them, along with his assistants. He has already parted ways with Carina. Steve was a bit disappointed he couldn’t congratulate her. 

“Everyone did great,” Fury said. “Next class I will announce who will be a part of my team. Also, that night, there’s a special dinner happening at the Jack Kirby diner. There will be other professors, some alumni and a few SHIELD officials. If you come, I’ll introduce to some of my SHIELD friends.” 


	6. Congratulations

_“Next class I will announce who will be a part of my team.”_

* * *

The tension was palpable in the room when Steve entered the classroom. The seats of the lecture hall was filled. As he walked down the stairs, he overhead conservations about Fury’s soon to come decision. Five minutes from now everyone will know who will be joining Fury’s team for the rest of the semester, who will earn the envy of every student in this class. It was a position that Steve did not envy. He doesn’t want to be in a position where all his classmates hated him. His classmates’ dog-eat-dog mentality in hope of winning minuscule brownie points from Fury and the potential backstabbing did not give him any desire to be in Fury’s top circle of students. He preferred his current position, including his own input despite while everyone overlooked him.

Steve squeezed through the small gap between his mostly filled row and the row in front of him. At his seat, he opened his laptop to check for any missed assignments. He did not want to afford embarrassing himself anymore then he did on the first day. His eyes glossed over the class page. No new assignments. Steve slumped in his chair, his eyes wandered to his neighbor. The cover on Bruce's book caught his eyes. The book had a drawing of a man's face, his brain exposed and both side had a different expression, one crying the other smiling. Steve's eyes traveled to Bruce, who's face was crinkled with curiosity. 

“What are you reading?” Steve asked. 

Bruce briefly jolted, whipping his head to Steve. "Huh? Oh, just how mental disorders affect brain pattern and chemical imbalances as well."

“Sounds…interesting.”

Bruce nodded enthusiastically at Steve with a toothy-grin, an expression different from the usual confused looks. “Very. So ready for today?”

“You mean Fury’s announcement? Not really.” Steve answered. “It’s not like I’ll be getting a spot on his team.”

“You think so? Even after you exposed the police department for illegally editing?”

Steve felt his face heat up. “It’s nothing special, I mean, not compared to what everyone else brought to the table.” Steve knew his deduction played  _some_ factor in Carina’s trial ending in a mistrial, but it wasn’t fair for him to receive all the credit. Tony, Natalia, and Clint contributed more damming evidence than he did and could have possibly gotten a not guilty verdict if the police department didn’t play dirty with the tape. 

Bruce shrugged at his response. “Still, its pretty remarkable, I didn’t notice it was forged, no one did, not even Fury himself.”

Before Steve could answer, Fury and his associates walked into the classroom. The students quickly quiet themselves as everyone watched the three approach the front of the classroom. The atmosphere was tense, Steve held in his breath as he watched. As usual, Fury set his briefcase on the table, his two associates stood on either side of him. The older man scanned the class. Steve’s heart speed fast when they made eye contact.

After a minute of silence, Fury spoke. “Judging by the looks of your faces, I could tell that the wait has been very stressful on everyone.” He started moving, hands behind his back and eyes still on the class. "I know today you guys are anxiously awaiting the results of who will be joining my team.” He stopped in front of the table and leaned against it, both hands grasping the edge of it. “After much consideration, my associates and I have managed to settle on six students.” His eyes travelled to each student. “Tony Stark. Clint Barton. Natalia Romanoff. Bruce Banner. Thor Odinson.” Fury’s final stare landed on Steve. Their eyes locked on to one another. Steve’s heart sunk. For a split second, Steve saw Fury's lips faintly tugged upwards. “And Steve Rogers. All of you come down.”

Steve's legs turned to jelly as his walked down the staircase. Bruce followed behind him, but made quick jogs down the stairs. He stood next to Tony, Bruce on the other side of him. The envious eyes of his classmates glared at him. Steve straighten his shoulders, tilting his head upwards and eyes staring directly at his empty seat. Inside, he felt a mix of emotions. He was shock yet happy about the decision, but dreaded what the weight of the decision meant for him and his placement in the class. 

"Congratulations to all of you," Fury told them. He faced the class. "To the rest of the class, these are the ones you should envy, your competition, a reminder to work harder so you could succeed in my class." He ended his sentence with a smirk.

* * *

Throughout the day, Steve was distracted by Fury's recent appointments. The question "why" continuously circulated in his head. Why him? Ever since the beginning of class, Fury only viewed him with disappointment. He failed to complete the reading for the first day of class, he embarrassed himself in front of everyone multiple times. He knew him pointing out the fake timestamp on the video help the case, but if it wasn’t for Natalia, Clint, and Tony, he doubt he would have said anything at all. 

Steve was out on the campus lawn. He was done for today, but his gnawing thoughts still troubled him. He took a deep inhale of the fresh air around him, hoping to ease his mind just a little bit. From the distance, Steve spotted Fury walking across the campus lawn. 

He ran up to the older man, catching the professor’s attention. “Mister Fury, thank you so much for choosing me," Steve said. 

“How couldn’t I? You helped me win the case.”

It was strange sight. Steve never saw Fury outside of the classroom or the courtroom before. Those were more natural habitats for a law professor than walking across campus grounds.

“I didn’t do it for the competition, I did it because I want to help people,” Steve hastily answered. 

“Is that why you chose to be a lawyer?” 

“Actually, no. I’m not interested in being a lawyer, sir.”

Fury raised an eyebrow. “Why sign up for a law class? My class isn’t easy for most.” 

Steve’s cheeks lightly turned red, grinning sheepishly at Fury’s words. “I’ve heard. Figured learning some criminal law wouldn’t help with offering advice for veterans.”

“Veterans, huh?" Fury stopped walking and looked at Steve. "I thought you were only ROTC.”

“I am, sir, but my friend, Bucky, he’s a veteran.” 

“So young?” 

Steve nodded. “He got discharged after he lost his arm in…” _‘Bucky.’_ The thought rudely reminded him about Bucky, his currently  missing friend. It’s been a day and Steve received no calls or texts from back. Steve’s hand impulsively reached into his pocket, ready to check his notifications, but Fury’s voice pulled him out of his daze. 

“It seems like you’re interested in the VA. I know a particular friend who works with veterans. If you come to the dinner party tonight, I’ll introduce you to him,” Fury offered. 

Steve cleared his throat. “Thanks, sir.” His stomach churned, anxiety rising as his thoughts returned to Bucky. He anxiously thumbed with the power button on his phone. “Will you excuse me, please?”

“Of course.”

Steve mumbled a goodbye to the older man then rushed to an empty area of campus. Steve leaned against the tree and immediately pulled out his phone. He scrolled through to see if there was any missed calls or texts or emails signifying Bucky’s presence. His heart sank. Nothing. 

“No.” He shook his head._ ‘Don’t go there, Bucky is alive.’_ However, he feared the worse. The possibility of Steve losing Bucky in that way gnawed at his conscious. He would never forgive himself if he lost Bucky. Bucky was always there to protect him, even when they lost both of their parents, Bucky kept him safe. He made certain that they had a roof over their heads, food for them to eat, clothes for school, and encouraged Steve to go to college. Even when Bucky joined the Army and Steve enrolled in ROTC, Bucky still watched out for him. 

Sucking in a breath, Steve opened up his phone app. His thumb hovered over Bucky’s name, shaking slightly. He pushed down his troubled thoughts and put the phone near his ear.

The ringing was agonizing. Each small pause caused his heart to speed up, hoping that maybe  maybe  the ringing will stop and he will finally hear Bucky’s voice. At this point, Steve’s heart is slamming against his chest. The ringing continues and then...

“Sorry, the number you are trying to call is not available.” 

Steve hung up the phone. 

Nausea rose up, his head started to spin. 

Putting his phone back in his pocket, Steve stood there and stared at the ground. A wave of emotions swept him. Anger, sadness, fear, angry at himself for not reaching out sooner, sad that there are some validity to his worse thoughts, and fear of knowing that Bucky is missing. In a sick sense, he was more hopeful that his friend was missing and not the worser outcome that he refused to entertain in his mind. 

Chewing his bottom lips, Steve knew what he had to do. He had to go to the police.

* * *

Steve drove to the local police station. As he entered the station, uneasiness gripped and twisted his stomach. There were officers walking around the bullpen, chatting with coworkers, others disappeared into different rooms with files in their hands, a few officers paid him no kind as they walked past him. Past the doors, Steve spotted the reception desk. 

Steve approached the desk. He was nearly eye-level to the receptionist despite the high desk. “I would like to file a missing person’s report.” Foreign words that he never expected to utter ever in his life. 

The receptionist, not bothering to lift her head up to acknowledge Steve, pulled out a paper and a pen “How long has the person been missing for?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure?”

“I…know he’s been missing for more than a week. My friend hasn’t been answering his phone since the school year began.” 

“How old is your friend?”

“26.” 

“Any mental illness?”

“He doesn’t have an arm," he replied then mentally scolded himself for answering the question wrong. "He lost it when he was in Afghanistan.” 

“Oh.” The receptionist continued to write. Steve watched silently as the woman wrote presumably about the information he said to her. Finally, she stopped writing and lifted her head. “I’ll have an officer come ask you questions regarding your friend. Take a seat over there.”

The woman stood up from her chair and entered the bullpen. Steve took a seat in the sitting area. He waited anxiously, foot tapping vigorously. Something on the wall caught his eyes. Steve got up and walked up to the bulletin board. ‘Have You Seen Me?’ written in cutout black bolded letters. Below the words were posters of missing children, their names, what date they went missing, their updated age, and the police number to call if found. The dates were unnerving. Some of the dates were years ago, a few up to tens years, children who are still missing with families still waiting for any sign that their lost loved one will return. 

Steve imagined Bucky’s face on the board. He wondered what photo would best represent Bucky, to show that Bucky isn’t a random stranger, but a person. Would it be Bucky in his military uniform? Or a picture of him when they went to the art museum last year? As much as Steve hated himself for thinking about it, he knew that’s the reality. Bucky’s missing, no sugarcoating it.

"Are you the one that filed a missing person's report?" someone asked. 

Steve snapped out of his thoughts and turned his head. Two officers stood in front of him, both with disinterested looks. 

Steve gazed for a moment then extended his hand. “Yes, Steve.” 

"Okay, Steve, come with us." The officer beckoned Steve to follow him. Embarrassed, Steve slipped his hand into his back pocket. He followed the officers into a room that looked more like an interrogation room for criminals than a lounge for distraught people looking for their missing loved ones. Both the officers and Steve took their side of the table. 

Steve looked around the interrogation room as the officers whispered to one another. Nothing on the walls and the glass display looked

smudged with dirt. He noticed a red blinking light on the right corner of the room. His eyes landed back on the officers. One of them had a notebook under his palm and the other a paper with words on it. Both officers pulled away from each other, their attention now at Steve.

"This is Officer Mahoney and I'm Officer Blake. Now described your missing friend."

"His name is Bucky, but his full name is James Buchanan Barnes. He's 26, he has brown hair, its long now, dark brown actually. He's 6 ft tall, I'm assuming about 150 pounds-“

"Do you have a picture of him?" Officer Blake asked, not lifting his head. 

Steve froze. “O-On my phone...yes.”

"Can we see it?"

“Uh, yeah, s-sure.” Steve pulled out his phone. It didn’t take long for him to find Bucky in his camera roll of 50 photos. Steve stared at the picture. Bucky was standing by himself, surrounding by cherry blossom trees and throwing a peace sign to the phone. They were at the park. Steve had dragged Bucky to see the trees bloom for the spring. Steve snapped out of the memory. He slid the phone to the officer. “Here." 

Mahoney grabbed his phone and handed it to Blake. Blake stared at his phone, his expression not changing. The officer wrote some things down on the notepad then handed the phone back to Steve. Blake whispered to Mahoney and Mahoney did the same. Steve attempted to read their lips, but to no avail. 

Then Blake, finally, looked at Steve. “Email that to us, would you?"

Steve nodded, lips pressed to a thin line. “Right.

“We’ll call you if anything comes up.”Officer Blake grabbed the notepad and the two stood from their chairs.

Steve was lost for words. They couldn’t seriously be done. They hadn’t even ask anything about the last place he saw Bucky or when he was gone or if he had a history of mental illness.

Swallowing down his anger, Steve asked. “Will there be posters?” 

“You can make some.” 

His eye twitched. He took a deep breath. Acting irrational won’t help Bucky. “Listen, I know he’s an adult and you might not use all your resources to find him, but…he’s like a brother to me, plus he’s a veteran and he lost his arm in Afghanistan.” 

“We’ll keep you updated, Mr. Rogers,” Office Mahoney cut him off. “Have your phone on, we will let you know if we have any updates.”

Frowning, Steve mumbled a “thank you”to the officers and allowed the officers to escort him out of the room.

* * *

Rather than fester in his anger, the first thing Steve did was drive to the university’s library. He rented out a computer and went to work. He was furious at the police department’s apathetic attitude. He shouldn’t be the only one raising awareness on Bucky’s disappearance. They could send out text messages, help put up posters for Bucky’s in populated areas such as the university, mall, or even the police department for any officer coming or going to be on the lookout. It may be a selfish request, but Steve was not begging for every officer to search for Bucky, but at least _try_ to give a damn. 

Steve grabbed his shaking hand. He laid both hands on either side of the keyboard and took in a deep breath. This was agonizing. Steve felt so small. He should be doing more, not just creating missing posters at the university library. Steve entertained the possibility of reaching out to classmates, but given his previous and now recent standing in class, he doubt any of his classmates will be helpful. Professor Fury crossed his mind, and although it was a stretch, he could ask for Fury’s help. _‘Then again, we made ourselves enemies to the police department.’_ Carina’s case came to his attention. Bruce was right, Steve’s evidence of police editing did win her case. Maybe word spread throughout the police department and could explain their indifference to Steve’s concern.

Steve scolded himself. He need to focus. Steve used a recent photo of Bucky, one taken at Bucky’s place. He vividly remembered the memory. Bucky had just moved in a week prior. Steve helped with the moving and Bucky insisted on him staying for the night.

_“I_ _need you here to watch out for spirits.”_

_ “And then what?” _

_ “You’ve seen Ghostbusters, right?” _

_ “Bucky, have you been secretly capturing ghosts without me?” _

_ “Yeah, me and three other guys.” _

_ “You’re annoying.” _

Steve remembered for the rest of that night, they stayed up all night crowded around Bucky’s small laptop screen watching horror movies. Bucky, ironic enough, decided to play a supernatural movie about exorcisms. He could recall the pillow fight that occurred either during or after the movie when Bucky came up with the idea to scare him.Bucky had won the battle and insisted on Steve taking pictures of him to memorialize his victory.

The photo showed a friendly Bucky, a warm smile, nothing threatening about him. Bucky usually has a resting bitch face that would give people the wrong idea about him. Bucky also being 6 ft didn’t help. However, this photo should garner  _some_ attention and show that Bucky is person worth looking for.

“Do you know what time is it, young man?” 

Steve jumped at the sound. He whipped his head to where the voice came from and saw one of his classmate standing next to him. The name didn’t immediately come to his mind, but he remembers him from earlier. 

The man was dressed in a fitting burgundy velvet suit with a white dress shirt underneath. His hands were hidden in his pocket and his classmate carried himself with a relaxed position. Oddly, he wore shades to complete his outfit, the shades rested on the bridge of the man’s nose. Steve assumed the classmate might have an event to attend to or is trying to outperform his date. 

Steve glanced over to the time on the computer. “7:18?”

“No- well, yes, but the dinner party tonight, remember?” The man reminded him. 

“I’m not going.”

“Really? One of Fury’s associates is not attending his dinner party? Thats not good for the competition.”

“I don’t care about the competition.” 

His classmate scoffed. “You care enough to help him with the case. Police editing evidence? That practically won us the case. How did you find out about that anyway?"

The name hit him: Tony. Memories from class this morning flooded Steve’s mind. Fury’s announcement, Steve coming down the stairs and standing right next to…Tony, his coworker for the rest of the semester. 

Steve sucked in a breath. He needed to bring his focus back to Bucky and finish the missing posters. He avoided Tony’s eyes for a moment. “Listen, Tony, is it?”

“The one and only,” Tony said with a cocky grin on his face. _‘Why is his face so punchable, right now?’_

Steve stared straight at Tony, narrowing his eyes. “I know it may be hard to believe, and to everyone else on the team, but I honestly do not care about the competition. I care about getting innocent people out of jail.”

The cocky grin on Tony’s face does not waver in the slightest. “Humble. I like that.” His neck craned forward and he tilted his head, eyes squinting at the computer screen. “Who is that?”

“Nothing!” Steve exclaimed as he rushed to minimize the tab. His face flushed, he corrected himself, “No one.”

Tony hummed the straighten himself up. “Well,” he started, “the party starts at 8, if you’re interested. You should come, be nice to see what more there is to waitlist.” A smirk flashed on his face and he turned around, strolling away from Steve. 

_‘Waitlist?’_ Steve questioned. Steve glanced over to the computer. The time was nearing 7:25 and he wondered if he should attend the party. The poster was mostly completed, nothing that he couldn’t do on his laptop, he just need to print it out. Chewing his inner cheek, Steve  knew Bucky would admonished him for not going. Bucky would want him to be social, not live a lonely life. Jokingly, Bucky would tease that Steve will die alone if he kept clinging to Bucky like a lost puppy. He created a mental note to come to the library first thing in the morning and get to work. 

Steve pulled the tab back open. With his eyes staring at the poster, he was determined, very determined. _‘Don’t worry, I’ll find you, buddy.’_He exited out of the tab, ready to start in the morning. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, thanks for reading this fanfic. I've actually had this idea in my head for a couple of years now and I'm glad I am finally able to post it now. When it comes to scheduling, I'm hoping to post at least twice a month, possibly on a weekend. Anyways, thanks for reading!


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